


Good To Me

by thediscontent



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Crying, Gentle Sex, M/M, Marking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Possessive Sex, Riding, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thediscontent/pseuds/thediscontent
Summary: their love is soft, and it does not hurt.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 768





	Good To Me

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes soft sex is the way to go, yk what i mean?  
> anyway, here's some nice intimacy between the boys, do enjoy!

Dream knew that a better man would probably be a lot less cocky. A better man might not take such strange, lewd pride in the way he was making George’s legs shake. A better man wouldn't feel such aching need with each tear that fell from George’s face. A better man wouldn't _throb_ with every pained little whimper, every tiny groan of sweet agony. A better man would stop teasing, would give George everything he wanted because, God, did he deserve it. A better man would stop, would hurry along, would _behave_ , but Dream was not that man. And he knew George did not want him to be. He was selfish, and he lived for the nights he could make George shake with want, tremble in his arms, quake around his fingers. He loved making George cry, tears of pleasure pouring down his perfect cheeks as Dream touched him, but not enough to make him feel everything he wanted. Tears of pain as Dream bit into his skin, staking his claim, marking him up until George begged him to stop. 

A better man would probably have let George cum by now, but _Jesus Christ_ , how was he supposed to let him when he was making such pretty noises? 

George let out a desperate whimper, the pads of his fingers pressing into the back of Dream’s head, tangling in his hair as he tried to pull him off of his throat. Dream smirked against his skin, biting down harder, sucking until the flesh was hot and purpled. George faltered for what was probably the hundredth time, his strength failing him as his hands melted into hair, clutching weakly at the strands. 

“Feel good, baby?” Dream kissed his pulse point gently. George whined in approval of the pet name, flexing his fingers in Dream’s hair.

He stroked George’s cock in his hand gently, slow enough that George could feel his fingerprints over the head. Soft enough to make him let out a wrecked cry. Not nearly enough to give him any sort of release.

George whined petulantly, kicking at Dream’s shins until he was suddenly flipped, big hands pulling him up to sit, thighs splayed, straddling Dream’s hips. George swayed, the blood rushing back into his head as Dream ran his hands under George’s soft white shirt. Initially, it had been Dream’s, stolen away at some point, not that he minded, now hanging off of George’s shoulders, the collar stretched out as Dream yanked on it to expose his pale skin. It had been worn thin with time, a diaphanous thing, just barely covering the tops of George’s thighs, red marks peeking out from the insides of his legs, still spread whorishly. Dream stroked his hands up and down George’s sides, watching as he shivered at the contact, the heady mixture of too much teasing and too little touch catching up to him. His skin was hot, sensitive; every soft brush of his fingers had George squirming, his breath huffing out into the chilled air of the bedroom. 

George liked to keep their room cold, which Dream had no quarrel with, choosing to stay warm with plenty of blankets and curling up close to the human heater he called his boyfriend. Dream quite enjoyed that, holding each other close at night, evenings of cuddling, warm skin against cold. 

That's how all this had started, George, pressed up against Dream’s side, seeking comfort and warmth, smelling of lavender and vanilla, looking so soft and pretty, downright irresistible. Dream had decided to ruin him right there, in their bed, in his shirt, kiss and bite, tease and touch until he was satisfied. Leave his mark all over him, _warm_ him the best way he knew how. 

It wasn't his fault George cried so prettily. No one could blame him for that if they could see the way his plump bottom lip would quiver, cheeks red and begging to be bitten on, ripe apples that they were. His smoky lashes stuck together with tears, wet and long, framing his misty eyes, blown out and desperate. Dream fucking loved it, loved seeing how wrecked he could make him, how pliant and messy he could get. 

His deft fingers pinched softly at George’s nipple, bruised and puffy from his earlier teasing, letting out a low groan at the way George arched his back in response. Dream had barely even _touched_ him yet, and yet he could already feel George’s cock drooling against his stomach from under his shirt. George rolled his hips against Dream, moaning at the contact, sobbing when Dream stilled him quickly, his hands jutting up to grasp George’s hips, hard enough to leave a mark. 

“We go at my pace, or not at all.” Dream whispered in a tone far too sweet for what his words entailed.

“P-please…” George whispered back, already sounding broken and exhausted. Dream groaned in response, pulling him down so that their chests were pressed together, George's face pressed into the crook of Dream’s neck, wetting the skin with his tears. Dream stroked down his knobby spine, settling a hand on George’s ass as he leaned to the side, retrieving a bottle of lube from the nightstand. He felt George whimper in relief at the sight, chuckling gently in response. He coated his fingers quickly, not even bothering to properly warm the liquid up, knowing full well how cold it was and not really caring. He reached down, circling George’s hole slowly, listening carefully to the gasping in his ear, tracing over it with gentle care. 

“C-Clay... _ah-_ , ” Dream pressed his pointer finger inside, so slow and thoughtful it _hurt_. “Mmm-God…”

George pressed against Dream’s hand, arching his back gracefully. Dream thrust his finger rhythmically, soft velvet heat wrapping around the digit. George’s toes curled, biting at his lips in an attempt to keep from letting out embarrassingly loud moans. Dream kissed the shell of George’s ear, slipping another finger inside him without much resistance, curling them lazily, pressing against the spot he knew by heart, the spot that broke George’s try at silence. George keened, pushing against Dream’s hand as his thighs shook with effort. 

“Want more- _oh_ _-_ ,” Dream massaged the sensitive bundle, pulling a throaty groan out of George, his other hand digging deep into the soft flesh of George’s thigh, spreading his legs further apart. The hot spark of arousal that had been flickering in his belly raged on, fanning itself brighter with each little whine he pulled out of the brunet.

“You want more, sweetheart?” He whispered lovingly against George’s hairline.

George nodded his head quickly in response, earning a third finger, neatly sliding inside him, excess lube coating his thighs as Dream stretched him out. He thrust his fingers in as deep as George liked, biting down on the available skin of his shoulder, George’s soft pants filling the room, melting with the white noise of the fan. His fingers pressed roughly against George’s prostate, feeling his soft walls clench and tremble around them. He stroked over it again and again until-

“P-please, _Clay_ , I'm gonna-” George pushed himself shakily up on his forearms, looking Dream dead in the eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks, flushed red and hot. He looked so _fucking_ good.

“You gonna cum on just my fingers?” 

George hid his face in Dream’s chest, whining in embarrassment. 

“Aw, sweet thing. C’mon let me help you, hm?

With that, Dream sat up, pulling George with him, positioning George’s hips over his aching dick, helping him slowly slide down, smooth and slick, until he was completely sheathed inside his body. George whined the entire way down, fingers curling in Dream’s hair, his head thrown back, showing off his pretty new bruises and bite marks. He moaned loudly at the fullness, new tears sliding down his cheeks.

“Big-ah! So big-mmn…” George slurred, drunk off the heat and tension in the air. “I-can’t, please.”

“Can’t what, honey?” He licked a stripe up George’s throat, feeling his soft groan reverberate through his tongue. “Can’t move?” He gripped George’s hips and pulled him up the length of his dick. “Can’t think?” He pushed him back down again, rocking directly into his prostate, making George give a breathless, little punched out noise. 

“Harder, I need- ah, _faster._ ” George looked up at him, seated firmly in his lap, and Dream briefly considered teasing him even longer, but decided against it as he watched George’s eyes roll back in his head when he ground against his prostate. Dream’s grip tightened, firmly sliding George up his dick, almost all the way off before slamming him back down, making George cough with the initial impact.

“ Clay, you're so-, you're so _deep_ , I can’t- _fuck_ , I can't breathe-” Dream thrust up off the bed, timing it directly as he slammed George back down on him, and George fell to pieces right there, his back swaying as he panted, his hands gripped tight on Dream’s shoulders. His nails drew red crescents in Dream’s skin, mindlessly clutching at anything to keep him upright. Dream thrust into him faster, bouncing George up and down on his lap, his hands pulling possessively at George’s skin. George slumped forward, resting against Dream’s chest. 

“Oh, _baby_.” Dream nosed at his face until his chin was stretching out on Dream’s shoulder, his throat exposed, a long column of porcelain skin, littered with little bites and bruises. He kissed at it soothingly, all the while shifting George up and down on his lap, grinding against him, slow and careful as he could manage.

“My sweet thing.” 

George shifted in his lap, moaning at the movement inside of him, a little breathless as he pressed his forehead to Dream’s. Their height difference wasn't so drastic like this, though Dream still had to tilt his head down to properly press against him. George gasped raggedly, Dream’s fingers massaging the soft flesh of his ass, rocking them together incessantly. 

“F-feels good…” George whimpered, his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Dream kissed his teeth, shifting their bodies so that George gasped in pleasure at the next push of his hips, squeezing around Dream’s dick.

“ _Fuck_ , George.” Dream groaned, breathing heavily against the sensitive skin of George’s throat, mouthing over it, goosebumps forming on the flesh.

George mewled helplessly, and Dream’s breath hitched at the sound, pulling him into a kiss, trying to press all his love behind George’s teeth. Dream licked into his mouth, tasting tears where they dripped into the kiss, biting tenderly at his bottom lip. Lewd squelching noises came with each push of Dream’s hips, up into George, exactly where he liked.

“Clay, please. I want- _oh._ ” He cut himself off with a broken moan, grinding down on Dream’s dick, wrapped up in that tight velvety heat. He pressed his chest hard against Dream’s, going mindless and animalistic. Dream breathed out heavily, the sensation of George frantically bucking his hips washing over him as he soothed the wrecked skin of George’s collarbones with his mouth. 

“Gonna- _ah_ \- Clay, h-help me.” George whined, looking positively ruined. His hair was a mess, pulled every which way, his mouth puffy and red with kisses, tear tracks down his face. So perfect. So pretty. 

Dream knew George was close, knew those breathy little pants and the familiar quake in his thighs, clenching helplessly around him, fingers digging into Dream’s hair again, pressing himself as close as humanly possible. 

“So pretty, sweetheart.” Dream kissed the delicate bones of his chest. “Just a little longer, baby. You can do it.” 

George whined desperately in response, his soft cries breaking out into a sob, wailing at the mindless, endless pleasure, brutally sweet sensations. He couldn't think, not with Dream filling up his head with cotton and kisses, couldn't breathe with his dick so deep inside him, touching everywhere, stretching him out in all the right places. 

Dream knew he was reaching his limit, grasping his hips firmly, moving to his final, and most possessive act. He slammed George’s hips down, railing into him as fast and hard as George requested, kissing the whimpers and moans right out of George’s mouth, devouring him whole. George made the prettiest, warmest, most _indecent_ sounds, happily bouncing on Dream’s dick, his own cock pressed in between the fabric of his shirt and his belly, soft friction enough to make his head spin. He had no control, no agency, nothing, and yet he could feel _everything._ His toes curled, the muscles in his thighs hot, burning with the strain, and he _ached_. Every bit of him was on fire, unfeeling of the cold air, heat licking through him, warming his very soul. Dream knew how much he loved it, how pleased he was, grateful whines pressed against his lips. George’s eyes grew wide, forcing himself down on Dream’s dick, pressing against his prostate, grinding against him until tears welled up in his eyes.

“Clay, I-,” He choked. “Need to cum, please let me- _ah-_ ” He threw his head back, and Dream thrust up into him, his voice strained with effort. 

“Go on, baby, you can cum.” Dream rolled his hips into him, hard, now focused on getting him off as fast as he could. Dream leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on the side of George’s neck. He rested his ear against the soft hair. “It’s okay,” George shook with pleasure, blood rushing through his body, an inferno quickly running out of oxygen, flashing a blinding light before dying with a whisper. George clenched around him, hot, buzzing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his lungs full of smoke and heat. He melted into Dream’s chest, gasping at the sensation of Dream still slowly fucking him to completion. 

Dream felt him switch from that burning heat to the gentle flickering, combing his fingers through his hair, kissing the side of his neck, slowly, slickly, smoother than he had any right to be, thrusting into George’s soft heat, quivering around him. It was a bit selfish, in the best way, and he knew he was overstimulating George, but he was so close he could _taste_ it. George was comfortable, not quite yet out of the fog of his climax, feeling so incredibly warm, kissed by the sun. Dream shoved him down on his dick, grinding into him, the head of his dick catching on George’s prostate, making George writhe on his lap, a ragged noise filtering through his lips. He mindlessly tried to buck off Dream, but Dream’s hands held him in place, now unable to escape the blistering pleasure. Dream groaned.

“I'm close, honey. Just-just hang on.”

George whined, shaking on his lap. Dream thrust into him one last time, making a motion to pull out, but George refused, fucking himself down.

“In-inside.” He whispered and, _God,_ Dream thought he might just fucking die right there, in between the thighs of the best damn thing in the entire world. 

He edged the line of his orgasm, unsure that he wanted the intimacy to end, but quickly, his need to cum, to fill, to claim George as his own, overtook him. He came before he was ready, pleasure blasting through him like a gunshot, a loud groan ripping through his lungs, as he pressed George flush against him, biting down on the delicate skin of his shoulder. George whined in response, so far past exhaustion, he hadn't had a coherent thought that didn't involve _Dream_ or _Fuck_ in nearly an hour. Dream filled him with his cum, fucking him through it, pressing it inside of him until it hurt to move. 

“ ** _Mine_**.” 

George made a breathy noise in approval of the statement, settling down on his chest.

They sat like that for a while, inside of each other, softly pressing exhausted kisses to puffy lips and tear-stained cheeks. Dream pulled George’s shirt down, smoothing it over his back, running his nails over the skin, making George shiver. Briefly, he considered staying inside, but he figured a few moments of possessive satisfaction wasn't worth the soreness tomorrow. He tried to pull out again, met with resistance in the form of George whining sadly, not wanting to lose the heat. He placated him with a kiss, gently fucking the cum that had spilled out back inside of George’s body. He made no motion to move, to leave, figuring they’d clean up in the morning, no matter the mess they’d just made. Dream wanted George close, in his arms, filled with his cum, in his clothes, sleepy and safe. He shifted their bodies so that George slid off of him, plopping onto the mattress, quickly gathering him in his arms. He made the decision to forego sheets, for now, sweaty and hot from their lovemaking, the only warmth was that of their bodies pressed together. Hands tangled in hair, clutching over broad shoulders and wrapped around slim waists, kisses so slow and steady they lost their breath. They didn't need words to say how they felt. They didn't need to open their mouths to make the other understand how much they were loved. It was known. It would always be known.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> let me know what u think (if u made it this far)! I'm still sorta learning the ropes with this sort of thing tbh. if u want to send me a prompt or just yell at me, follow me on twt:)) @thediscontent_


End file.
